


Stripped Down

by anotherwinchesterfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherwinchesterfangirl/pseuds/anotherwinchesterfangirl
Summary: Sam and Dean pick up a girl at a bar.





	

It starts with a game of pool. The guy’s trying to hustle you—you can tell that right off the bat—but you’re good enough that you beat him, even after he starts playing for real. He’s impressed, and you can practically hear his drawling pick-up lines before he’s even opened his mouth. He raises his eyebrows, offers to buy you a drink, calls you _sweetheart_. This is usually the time you politely decline— _you can buy your own drinks thankyouverymuch_ —but the words hang back a little in your mouth. Something about his eyes, green and crinkled, makes you want to give him a chance. Definitely has nothing to do with freckles or biceps. Just the eyes, you assure yourself as he hands you a whiskey.

You’re three drinks in when he beckons over a guy from across the room, his “brother”—which seems a little…not weird, _unexpected_ …but you brush it off. Besides, the brothers is tall _tall_ with shoulders so broad they make the horizon tip over a little. You can’t help wondering how they’d feel spreading your thighs. You lick your lips a little self-consciously, keep listening to Dean, focusing on his lips, feeling the other one (Sam) watching you from across the table.

By the time you’re crossing the street between them, Dean’s arm around your waist, you’re too turned on to care if the sexual tension between them is so palpable you can practically feel their glances vibrating the air over your head. All you want is a little taste of their hunger for each other. Your panties are wet and getting wetter and _fuck_ , you don’t care if they’re really brothers or not; you want to watch them fuck.

As soon as the door of the motel room is shut, you turn to face them. “Ohmy _god_ , kiss already.”

“Um. We’re—“ Dean starts, but Sam interrupts him.

“Dean, c’mon.” He cups a hand round the back of Dean’s head and pulls him in, tilting Dean’s head back and pressing his lips over Dean’s mouth like it’s what he was born to do. Dean sways into Sam and your own hips sway forward, standing there watching them.

Dean opens his mouth and you can see their tongues playing against each other—can’t even tell whose is whose—and you’re so turned on that you have to sit down cause your knees are shaking a little. You lurch down onto the edge of the bed. Someone’s groaning and it takes you a second to realize that it’s you.

They pull apart slowly, still touching, and both turn to look at you with smoldering stares.

“Get over here, sweetheart,” Dean rumbles.

“I— I wanna watch for a minute.” You inhale deep, let it out slow. “If that’s okay?” You run your hand up your side and cup your breast, squeeze your nipple through the thin layers of shirt and bra.

Sam’s eyes go even darker than they’d been in the bar. “What do you want to see, doll?” His voice is sandpaper-coarse, and you close your eyes for a minute. You lick your lips, again.

“Take each other’s clothes off.”

“OK, but. Yours gotta come off too.”

You reach for the button on your jeans and slowly pop it open as Sam reaches out and tugs Dean’s flannel shirt over his shoulders. You’re overwhelmed at the sheer amount of bare skin and rippling muscles as their clothes hit the floor—Dean’s freckled thighs, Sam’s protruding hipbones—and the way their hands skim quick over each other, tugging and touching, stripping  each other down to nothing.

From your naked perch at the edge of the bed, you can see everything. The way their dicks stand stiff in front of their bellies, Sam’s just a tad longer, pinker, with a thatch of dark curls at the root, and Dean’s all girth, hard and leaking and dark—nearly purple. The way they look at each other, like they could do it for a lifetime and then all over again, sends a shiver down your spine. You’re not sure where the lines fall between them, brother or lover or soulmate—but it’s clear they’re everything to each other. You feel lucky to see it, to be part of it.

“Sam,” you say, your voice clear even though your body is on fire and your brain feels like it’s melting. Sam looks up at you, one side of his mouth drawn up in a smirk. “I want you to suck Dean off.”

Dean’s still got his boxers around his ankles, is kicking them off to the side, when Sam drops to his knees on the scratchy carpet and takes Dean’s cock in his hand, leans forward and swirls his tongue around its tip. Dean groans and throws his head back, tongue swiping over his parted lips, fingers tangling in Sam’s long hair. You twist a nipple between your fingers and feel your pussy pulse with need, so sharp and intense it makes you gasp out loud. You didn’t think you’d be this turned on watching two guys together, but it’s possibly, no it’s _definitely_ , the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You circle your clit slowly as you watch, slide two fingers inside yourself; you’ve never felt yourself this wet before, didn’t know you could get this wet.

It doesn’t take long before Dean is tugging Sam off of him, trying to back away. “Sam, _Sammy_ , st-stop. I don’t wanna—not yet. Fuck.” Sam gets up and they turn to look at you.

“We didn’t, y’know, bring you back here just to be a spectator, sweetheart,” Dean says, climbing onto the bed. You can’t take your eyes off his cock, rock hard and glistening wet from Sam’s mouth. “Tell me, honey, are you wet?” You don’t trust your voice at this moment, so you just nod, biting your lip. You remove your fingers from yourself as Dean leans in, runs his hand up your thigh. His lips connect with yours just as his fingers slide into you, your moan of pleasure swallowed up by his mouth.

You’re so lost in Dean’s kiss that you barely notice Sam come to the side of the bed till you hear him set something down. Dean pulls away and you look over—neatly collected on the night table is a bottle of lube and a handful of condoms. Your face flushes— _just what have you gotten yourself into here?_ But the feeling doesn’t last long as Sam’s fingers catch your chin and lift your face to his. His lips meet yours gently, coaxing them open, exploring the inside of your mouth with his tongue. His hand finds your breast, pinches your nipple between the pads of his fingers lightly. Dean’s fingers are pumping agonizingly slowly in and out of your pussy and suddenly you’re right on the edge, thighs trembling. Dean reaches for a condom and tears it open, rolls it down over his rock hard cock. He arranges himself with his back against the headboard, knees bent and feet flat on the bed, his cock a rigid curve up toward his belly button. You move to straddle him, but he stops you before you can climb into his lap.

“Turn around,” he says, low, and you do, so your back is against his chest, He lines you up, hands over your hips, and you sink down slowly, letting your body adjust to the hot stretch of it. You can’t stop the low moan that leaves your lips once he’s fully seated inside you.

Sam splays himself out on the bed in front of you and nestles his head between your thighs. You can’t take your eyes off the way the muscles ripple from his shoulders down his back or the curve up to the tight, round muscles of his ass as he— _oh ohhh what is he doing with his tongue_. You’re writhing back against Dean, who is thrusting up into you as much as he can, the headboard creaking with his efforts. His hands are cupping your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers. You spread your legs a tiny bit wider, as far as they’ll go, and press your pussy up against Sam’s mouth, and a high, keening scream rips from your throat right before the orgasm explodes over you, shaking you into pieces. Your legs stutter together but Dean’s knees are still spreading them, holding your thighs apart, and Sam’s not letting up with his tongue and it’s verging on too much _too much_ , on and on and on. You’re dissolving into nothing but breath and sensation and pleasure when Sam finally lifts his head.

“Dean, you wanna taste her?” Sam says. You can barely hear him through the roaring in your ears. Dean shifts behind you, his hands dropping to your hips as he leans forward to meet Sam’s lips. He groans and it rumbles through you, you can feel his dick pulsing inside you, and you’re _hot_ , so hot you feel like you might just spontaneously combust, your whole body washed in a tingling flush.

You’re pancaked between them—Sam pressed tight against your still heaving chest and Dean’s chest sliding slick with sweat against your back. You turn your head, twist your neck a little so you can watch them kiss. Sam’s hand finds your jaw, his fingers tangling with your damp, knotted hair, and then his lips are on yours, and you taste the lingering tang of your own arousal on his tongue. It’s gone too soon as Sam climbs off the bed and reaches toward the nightstand for the bottle of lube. Suddenly you realize how this is going to go down, and your eyes go wide.

“Alright, sweetheart?” Dean whispers into your ear. “If anything doesn’t feel good, just let us know, okay?” He lifts you slightly by the hips and you pull your legs up a bit so your knees can find the mattress. Dean keeps a hand on your belly, holding you against him as he leans you forward, his cock never leaving your pussy as you adjust to doggystyle. Sam climbs back up onto the bed behind Dean.

Dean pumps into you a few times, and reaches around to finger your swollen clit, slippery with Sam’s saliva. He moves your hair to the side so he can kiss the back of your neck.

“This shouldn’t take too long, sweetheart,” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin, and you don’t know if he’s referring to himself or you, but it doesn’t really matter; you have absolutely no concept of time or space at this moment anyway.

Dean groans into your hair, you feel his forehead drop against your back, and you push back onto him. His fingers dig into your left hip hard enough to bruise, and you realize his other hand is gripping the sheet hard, and you glance over your shoulder. Sam’s draped over him, sucking and biting at Dean’s neck and shoulder.

“You ready, baby?” Sam says low, running a hand up Dean’s back to rest between his shoulder blades.

“Yesss,” Dean says, terse with want. “Sam, please.”

You hear the tear of a condom wrapper, and then Dean shudders behind you as Sam pushes into him, eases back out, pushes in again, slow and steady for the first few thrusts, then faster and harder.

“God, Dean, you’re - so - rrrghh,” you hear Sam saying behind you, murmurs bitten out to the rhythm of his thrusts. The sounds Dean’s making in your ear are _obscene_ , and you clench your fists in the bedsheet as Sam’s powerful thrusts drive Dean into you over and over. Dean’s fingers are still on your clit, rubbing fast circles now, slipping a little, and you know he was right: this isn’t going to take long at all.

Dean’s reduced to low moans and soft grunts, eyes squeezed shut and panting, as Sam pumps into him, as he slides in and out of your soaked pussy. Then you feel him tense and he curls hard over your back as he comes, his shaking hands balled into fists in front of you on the mattress. Sam’s still pumping, and Dean rides it out another two, three thrusts, and you’re screaming again, shaking right out to your fingertips and contracting hard around Dean over and over and over. Sam comes with a shout and a moan of Dean’s name, and then Dean’s pulling out of you with a slick squelch. There’s shuffling behind you, but you’re too fucked out to move.

Sam’s arms come around you and he carries you to the other bed. Dean comes in with a wet cloth and helps you clean up, then nestles in beside you. Your head is on Sam’s chest, the hair over his nipples tickling your cheek, and you’re breathing in his musky scent and the slightly tangy scent of sex that permeates the room. Dean’s solid and warm behind you, an arm wrapped around your middle. Your eyes slide closed, and the last thing you consciously hear is their mouths meeting again, soft and lingering, above your head.


End file.
